


The Corner of Your Eye

by World_Pax



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, No beta we kayak like Tim, Statement Fic, canon timeline?, never heard of her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:15:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28623177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/World_Pax/pseuds/World_Pax
Summary: Statement of Audrey Walker, regarding a series of what she believed to be hallucinations.
Relationships: Jonathan Sims and the physical embodiment of skepticism
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	The Corner of Your Eye

**Author's Note:**

> yeah this only fits with the vaguest of canon timelines but i had a lot of fun so
> 
> i hc this around late s1. jon is less skeptical, esp with the leitner, but he really wants to believe that there's nothing weird about it.

[CLICK]

ARCHIVIST  
Statement of Audrey Walker, regarding a series of what she believed to be hallucinations. Original statement given 13th September, 2012. Recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. 

Statement begins. 

ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT)  
Your carpet is made of snakes, did you know that? Probably not, the only one who could ever see what I do was Robbie. And even now, they writhe more slowly. I think they can tell when I notice them out of the corner of my eye. Neither I nor Robbie could ever see anything when looking at objects directly. What’s more, the...hallucinations, as I called them, tended to resemble reality quite closely. For example, if I look at your carpet directly, I can see serpentine swirls with a slight scale pattern. Of course, there are no actual snakes in the pattern. It’s just close enough to drive you mad, not knowing if it’s a trick of the light or your mind or something...darker. 

I’m sorry. Let me start at the beginning. 

My parents were good friends with Mary Keay, and later, Gerry was Robbie’s and my best friend. She has mentioned you often, so I don’t think I need to explain what they do. Gerry was...a year or two older than us, I think. We knew from the start that whenever we went over to Mary’s house we were not to touch her books. She said they were dangerous, and that they–oh, how did she put it? That “they’d consign me to a life of dry eyes and neck pain, because I’d never be able to sleep without one eye open, and I’d never be able to go anywhere without looking over my shoulder.” I didn’t really understand what she meant as a child, it was a lot of words to follow. I understood what “dangerous” was, and that was enough. As we got older, Robbie and I figured that they were just old and frail and she didn’t want our grimy little hands ruining them. Especially after she got her antique book shop. Gerry always believed, though. When we were kids, we’d play games pretending it was our job to get rid of these dangerous books. There were fights and perilous adventures and once, a dragon that would leap out of the book to eat people before returning, leaving no trace of them. Our parents would always bemoan our active imaginations, mine especially. That’s why I never told anyone, I think. I know now that the Keays would probably believe me, but my parents would just tell me not to bother anyone and if I wanted an outlet I could write my stories down. So here I am, I guess. Down three family members and positive that I’m following soon after. I just wanted someone to know what really happened to me. 

When Gerry, Robbie, and I were in our teens, Mary’s bookshop was our favorite haunt. The dark corners and mysterious air fed our rebellious phase nicely. Gerry dyed his hair black, I exclusively wore band t-shirts and shorts over ripped fishnets, and Robbie had that old leather jacket he wore everywhere. We spent a lot of time in the upstairs restricted section, because there was a big bay window we could smoke out of. Looking back, I don’t know why Mary didn’t make a bigger fuss about the flammable materials so close to her books. We were always very careful, and knowing us we probably would have stopped immediately had someone asked us, but she never mentioned it. The only rule she strictly enforced was never go into her back room. And we never did. Save for that one night. 

When Gerry hit 18, Mary started leaving him to run the shop while she went out looking for rare books. Sometimes she would even take him with her and close up altogether. On such occasions, Robbie and I had free reign of the shop with no interfering customers. Some days, we would just sit around and read, as that was a favorite pastime of the both of us. Others, we would explore the secret passageways and cramped tunnels that ran all round the old building. It was one such day that we found ourselves in the back room. We didn’t realize where we were at first. When we noticed the unique oak door with its dirty window, Robbie wanted to go back, but something drew me in. I didn’t really notice anything about the room except for the small table under the moonlit window, and the book resting on top of it. Something about the way the moonlight hit the book made the cover look like it was...moving. Intrigued, I stepped closer. Robbie grabbed my shoulder to stop me, but I shook him off and picked up the book. 

I can’t really describe what the cover looked like. It...shifted. One moment it would be recognizable as crawling spiders or a disembodied face laughing, but others were...more abstract. The one thing they all had in common was that they terrified me. I was paralyzed. I couldn’t put the book down, I just kept staring as the images on the cover moved faster and faster. I must have gasped or something, because the next thing I knew Robbie pushed past me and grabbed the book from my hands. He stared at the cover for a beat before blinking and between the two of us, we pushed it down to the table and left it there, face down. Breathing hard, I glanced at the back of the book and noticed a small bookplate that read “from the library of Jurgen Leitner.” I don’t know why that detail is burned into my mind, but it is. Maybe it means something to you. It certainly did to Gerry. We saw the name in a news article once and he froze up before throwing the whole newspaper away. We never asked him about it. 

Robbie and I didn’t really talk about that day, not at first. I managed to convince myself that it really was a trick of the light and the holographic cover. Then the hallucinations started. They started out quite small, to the point that I’m not sure exactly when I noticed them. I remember seeing people in photographs move when I passed them. If it was bold enough, I’d look back to check, but they’d always be there unchanged. No evidence that they had raised an arm to point at me, or turned their head to watch me walk past. Then I started seeing things skitter across the walls. In broad daylight, across large walls with nowhere to hide! And yet, there was never anything there to see when looking directly. The skittering creatures grew quite large, too. I think most of them were spiders, and I swear I saw one the size of my whole hand. 

We have a large mirror hanging over our fireplace. I passed it every day on my way from my room to the kitchen. One day, I think it was about two months after I picked up the book, I passed it and there was someone else in my place. I saw dark hair and a pale face before I stumbled back and stared into the mirror. There was nothing. Only my normal ginger hair and wide eyes staring back at me. Robbie must have heard me stumble, because he came into the room to find me moving sideways towards the kitchen, not taking my eyes off the mirror. He put a hand on my shoulder, and I realized I was shaking. He whispered, low but clear: “did you see her?” I nodded and tried to squeak out a yes, but my throat seemed closed up. 

“Have the shadows started moving yet?” To this I blinked, not expecting the question. I shook my head, confused, but Robbie didn’t explain. He only said to tell him when they did. They still haven’t to this day, but I’m dreading the day they do. I’ll explain why in a bit, but in the spirit of a chronological tale, I’ll tell this bit first. 

Over the next four months, they got more and more frequent, until I almost learned to ignore any movement in the corner of my eye. They got more grotesque, too. The pictures would start stabbing, choking, or otherwise maiming themselves or the other occupants. Blood would drip from my posters. The skittering creatures grew larger, like I said. Sometimes I even saw a bigger one eat another. The only one that never changed was the girl in every reflective surface I passed. She always just stood there. Staring. I never learned who she was. 

We didn’t tell anyone. Robbie was afraid the hallucinations would get worse or that no one would believe us. I was afraid of Mary’s temper if she knew we broke her only real rule. I wish so desperately that we had told. Maybe Robbie would still be alive. 

Robbie was different in those last four months. Jumpier. He always had this half-wild look in his eyes, like someone–something was coming for him and he didn’t know from what angle. It got worse and worse until my parents had noticed and were seriously considering getting him psychiatric help. I don’t know if it would have done any good. Regardless, they were too late. 

It all came to a head when I got a call from Robbie. It was unusual for him to call me, but not completely unexpected. We may have spent most of our time together, but occasionally a ride would fall through, or we’d need a quicker way out of a situation than available. So I didn’t think anything was amiss when I got a call from Robbie a couple hours after school ended, right around the time his track practice would be done. I asked him what was up, and if he needed a ride. He said nothing, and for a minute all could hear was his labored breathing. Then, very haltingly, he said, “Addie? The shadows...they’re real. They’re not leaving. Tell...tell Mum and Dad that I love them. Gerry too. I don’t think they’re gonna let me leave.”

I started to panic. I asked him where he was, if he was okay...I honestly don’t remember everything I said in my blind panic, but I know it was a lot. 

Robbie just chuckled weakly. “I love you, Addie. I’m gonna miss you.” Then he must have dropped the phone, because I heard a clatter and his muffled voice–I think he said he was sorry, and that he didn’t mean to. Then he screamed. 

I will never forget that scream. Long and horrified and bone-chilling. It went on for ages, getting louder and louder until it ended in a wet gurgle. The sound replays in my nightmares every night. 

I’m sure you’ve made the connection yourselves, but that’s why I live in fear of the shadows moving. They’re what got Robbie. I don’t know why it’s taking so much longer for them to get me. By all accounts, I should be dead. Even if Robbie got a more powerful...blast of the cover, or was more susceptible, or WHATEVER, I doubt it was enough to make me endure what’s coming up on four times what Robbie did before they got him. I’m not sure who got the worse end of the deal, to be frank. 

It was Mary and Gerry’s disappearances that finally pushed me to tell someone. Rumors had started to fly about what they really did, and they fit in with the people I knew so nicely that I pretty much just accepted them as truth. I always suspected they knew something was wrong with Robbie and me, and I suppose I took comfort in not having to explain myself. Someone would believe me if I ever said anything. Now, I’m not so sure. You’re my last hope. I don’t think you can do anything for me, but if that book’s still out there...well. It’s not a picnic knowing the movement in the corner of your eyes is real. Maybe you can help them. 

ARCHIVIST  
Statement ends. I’m assuming Mary and Gerard Keay have the Leitner under control, so I’m not going to focus on that. Not to mention the complete lack of detail I have to go one were I so inclined. It sounds rather dangerous though, so I will keep half an eye out. 

Robert Walker, twin brother to Audrey Walker, died 3rd October 2010. The police ruled it a suicide. He apparently made long parallel cuts all over his body before slitting his own neck. They never found any weapon, though. And in the copy of the police report Sasha got me, the cuts almost look like claw marks. Strange. 

Their parents, Tom and Allison Walker, died in a car crash 25th May 2012, about four months before Ms. Walker gave her statement. It appears to be unrelated to Ms. Walker’s case, but I’m having Tim look into it nonetheless. 

Ms. Walker attended the University of London from 2013 up until her death. Her classmates reported that she had always been jumpy, but the months leading up to her death were particularly bad. Her flat mate, who refused to give Martin her name, said that Ms. Walker would jump at the slightest movement and often at nothing in particular. Said she “half looked like she wanted to bolt from every room she entered.” 

Audrey Walker was found dead in her Central London flat approximately two months ago. Cause of death was blood loss from cuts all over her body and one across her neck. They are...identical to her brother’s. The police ruled her death a suicide due to lack of evidence, but the case has been left open in the event that a lead connecting the two appears. A personal diary was found next to the body, with a single entry dated 5th July 2014: “they’ve started moving.” 

...

End recording. 

[CLICK]

**Author's Note:**

> who knew the spiral had leitners
> 
> please correct me if anything's weird?? i'm american and i think i got the english education system right but idk


End file.
